Joy
by lumaluma
Summary: Matthew reflects on the events leading up to the start of his and Arthur's relationship. T for brief sexual content. UkCan, Human AU.


_Short drabble ahoy! This may or may not be because I had a professor with a very pronounced Italian accent, whose class I enjoyed simply because it felt like I was being taught by North Italy (I'm not even joking). And then another professor who happened to be incredibly gorgeous and belonged in a Calvin Klein ad, not a lecture hall. __Professors should not have biceps or abs or nice bums. __That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. _

_In any case, enjoy my first real writing in months!_

* * *

Part of the reason Matthew woke up so early was so that he could lie in bed for a little while and just look at Arthur. For all his supposed strictness and his yelling and carrying on during the day, he always made an unexpectedly beautiful sight when he was asleep. The wrinkles in his forehead from constantly scowling melted away, and he looked almost happy, the slightest hint of a smile at the corners of his mouth.

And though Matthew couldn't see Arthur's eyes, he knew them to be almost unnaturally green, and that they revealed much more about what Arthur was actually thinking than Arthur liked. That was how Matthew had first realised that his awkward, bumbling, half-attempts to make Arthur notice him were working.

…

He had accidentally flung his pencil across the room during a lecture, managing to send it flying straight onto Arthur's desk, making the professor jump slightly and swear under his breath. Embarrassed, heart racing a little bit as the people in surrounding chairs smirked or giggled at him, Matthew looked down at his notebook. He didn't dare run up to the front to grab it. So he pulled a new pencil out of his bag, deciding Arthur could keep the other one for himself, if he wanted. There was absolutely no way he was going to even _attempt _to recover it.

After class, he was packing up his things, ready to leave, when he heard someone say his name. "Matthew Williams, come here for a minute." It was Arthur. Oh god.

So Matthew shuffled up to his desk, ready to apologise to his incredibly good-looking, horribly strict, no-nonsense professor (whose voice just so happened to make his stomach fill with butterflies). Arthur held up the pencil, his eyebrows raised. "I believe this is yours?"

"I'm so sorry, professor, I didn't mean to-"

Arthur put a hand up. "Relax, I'm not angry." He smiled, apparently amused. "However, I am curious as to how a fourth-year cognitive neuroscience major with little athletic ability managed to launch his pencil exactly into my box of chalk."

Matthew felt his cheeks heat up a little. Of all the times to blush… "I spazzed out somehow, I don't really know how it happened myself. And I am sorry."

Arthur shook his head, still smiling. He looked up at Matthew, eyes twinkling. "You're an odd one, you know that? Never asked a single question during class, but turning in incredible papers and passing exams with flying colours. If I hadn't seen the notes you take during lecture, I would have reported you out of suspicion long ago."

"Excuse me for asking," Matthew began, "but how did you see my notes?"

"I asked a classmate of yours to borrow them and lend them to me. A little bit unethical, perhaps, but at least I know you aren't cheating. Very detailed diagrams, by the way. And interesting doodles."

Matthew shrugged, unsure of how to respond. There wasn't really a way to explain the smiling turtles he occasionally drew on the borders of his notes.

"Was this your last class for the day?"

Matthew nodded.

"Come to my office."

Finally finding his voice, Matthew asked, "Why?"

Arthur's eyes lit up again, and something in them made Matthew's stomach do a happy little somersault. "Because you seem to have something remarkable going on in that head of yours, and I'd like to know what it is."

They talked for hours, over several cups of tea, and when Matthew finally left, the sun had set.

From then on, the two met at least once a week to talk, whether about neuroscience, books, art, or anything else they fancied. By the end of the year, Matthew's butterflies had turned into something a little more tangible, something that made him gather up the confidence to walk up the stairs to Arthur's office on morning, knowing he was in there, drinking his morning tea.

Matthew knocked on the door before he could lose his will, and when Arthur called out, "Come in," he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

"I have an idea for something potentially really important, and I want to research it with you," he blurted out.

Though he looked understandably surprised, Arthur just nodded. "All right. This summer, once you've received your degree."

"Thank you," Matthew said, stepping back out of Arthur's office.

"Wait a moment," Arthur called after him, and when Matthew stopped and looked over his shoulder, he noticed Arthur was a little pink in the cheeks. The professor set down his cup of tea. "I know we are on friendly terms, but I am still your superiour, and you will treat me as such. Understood?"

Matthew nodded. "Of course. If anything, it'll be an honour to work alongside you."

Over the course of the summer, Matthew started to notice something. Arthur would subconsciously brush against him, a hand on Matthew's forearm or shoulder when he was giving Matthew instructions, his foot resting alongside Matthew's under the table, other innocuous little touches. Matthew didn't dare reciprocate, worried that maybe he was misinterpreting it. Not to mention that Arthur was technically his boss. Still, he allowed himself the small act of looking Arthur in the eyes when they spoke, and he knew there was something there beyond mere academic interest in the thoughts of a rather gifted student.

It wasn't until one night in the middle of August that something significant happened.

Matthew was checking the results of an experiment for the fourth time, trying to figure out if one of their subjects was just an outlier or if they had something very strange going on and maybe needed to see a medical professional. It was quite late to be at the lab. In fact, Arthur and Matthew were the only ones still there. Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "Well, I've had enough for one day." He shut down his computer, slipping it into his laptop bag. "I'll be locking up in a minute, all right?"

"Okay." Matthew heard Arthur's chair scrape across the floor and then his footsteps, but didn't pay attention until Arthur spoke from right behind him.

"Come on now, time to go."

"One second, I've got-" Matthew shut up when Arthur rested his hands on Matthew's shoulders with a quiet chuckle.

"You're working yourself too hard," he murmured.

Matthew tilted his head back, looking up at Arthur. "What does that mean?"

"It means I think you should go home and get some sleep." When all Matthew did was raise his eyebrows, Arthur leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

Matthew closed his eyes, opening them again slowly to look up at Arthur in surprise. He didn't move, just sat there, trying to think of something vaguely coherent to say. When nothing came to mind, he simply blinked at Arthur a few times, watching his cheeks turn a progressively darker shade of red. "You just kissed me," Matthew finally managed to say, and Arthur nodded.

"Yes, I did."

"Why?"

"Because I felt like it."

Arthur's hands were still on his shoulders, Matthew noticed, so he leaned back into Arthur's chest slightly. "I'm nothing special, so don't even bother trying to use that as an excuse. I've only ever been second-best at everything, and I'm okay with that."

"I know. I'm a rather mediocre human being myself. Why do you think I'm teaching here instead of some well-renowned university in England?"

"Because living here is less expensive."

Arthur laughed softly. "Well, that much is true. But don't worry, I'm not going to pull the 'brightest student I've ever had' shite."

"Then what's your excuse?"

"You're attractive, kind, have good taste in books and tea, and can hold a conversation without getting distracted. That and I've always been attracted to men with glasses."

Matthew smiled. "I like that one."

"And what does that mean?"

"That of all the guys to make a move on me, you're one of the only ones who hasn't mentioned lumberjacks."

"You're from Brampton, Ontario."

"Yeah."

"There aren't any lumberjacks in Brampton."

"Exactly." Matthew sighed. "But… what does this mean? Most academics don't kiss their research assistants on the forehead, especially not at night when they're alone."

"Well then, pardon the cliché, but I'm not most academics." Arthur brushed a few locks of hair out of Matthew's face before kissing him on the temple, his lips lingering a little longer than before.

Matthew, taking a bit of a risk, reached up and put a hand on the back of Arthur's neck, pulling him into a proper kiss. When he pulled back, Arthur looked slightly stunned, but that quickly faded into a small, bright smile. And Matthew noticed that despite the stereotype of bad British orthodontics, Arthur had a lovely smile. His eyes crinkled up just slightly at the corners, and sparkled.

…

Matthew traced his finger very lightly around the edge of Arthur's eye. Sure, maybe he was starting to get noticeable laugh lines, and Matthew had seen him worrying himself about it in the bathroom mirror earlier that week, but he thought they looked nice. Just like the almost-translucent, delicate skin under his eyes. It looked a little bruised some nights, when Arthur came home from a long day of dealing with troublesome students. But in the morning, it was lightly shimmering, soft, and made Matthew want to kiss him.

Same with Arthur's eyelashes. They were blond, of course, so a little hard to see sometimes, but in the right light you could see just how long they were. Sometimes, they'd even cast shadows onto his cheekbones.

…

He had noticed that the first time they slept together, when Arthur had pulled away from a kiss to ask Matthew if he was absolutely sure he wanted this. Matthew had gotten slightly distracted, and took a moment to nod before Arthur had leaned back over him, guiding himself into Matthew, and so many things took Matthew's breath away that by the end, all he could do was hold onto Arthur and gasp for breath, trying to keep his eyes open so he wouldn't miss a thing.

And afterwards, Arthur stayed inside of him, the two of them kissing gently, no reason to rush. The next morning, Matthew woke up with Arthur's hand casually draped over his side, and he pretended to be asleep until he noticed Arthur was also pretending to be asleep, at which point he rolled over and kissed him. It wasn't easy to think of something not-too-sappy to say, and he realised that he was actually a little bit nervous, because Arthur had given him something he could potentially lose, and he didn't want that.

So he opened his mouth and let the first thing that came to mind spill out. "I know I'm an idiot sometimes and self-defeating and a passive-aggressive asshole, but you make me really happy."

Arthur had just smiled, a little bit sleepily, and said in reply, "I'm a mess myself, but having you around makes me feel better, and I don't want to bugger things up."

And, as it turned out, they didn't bugger things up. Matthew learned to stop worrying so much and just let things happen. There were a few things Arthur didn't know about (like how Matthew would wake up early just to look at him), and Matthew was sure there were a few things he didn't know about Arthur either.

The first time they wrote a paper together, Matthew looked at their names, side-by-side, and smiled. Despite Arthur being the expert, he had put Matthew's name first, in a silent acknowledgment that the research had been Matthew's idea in the first place. And with the knowledge he gained, Matthew came up with even more directions in which to take his research, and Arthur was open to them.

It wasn't until his desk in Arthur's office became a permanent position and a plaque with "Dr. Williams" was put on the door that he really realised that this was his life now.

And he loved it.

…

The alarm clock went off, and Arthur opened his eyes slightly to glare at it. He then wriggled one arm out from under the bedsheets and whacked the clock a few times until it shut up. "My arm's asleep," he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes with his other hand. "Is that your fault or mine?"

"Your fault, I'm afraid to say. I've been awake for a little while now." Matthew smiled, kissing Arthur on the forehead.

In reply, Arthur sighed and pushed off the blankets. "I still don't know how you're always so happy and awake in the mornings."

"Maybe because I don't have a group of clueless first-years to teach?"

"Don't remind me." He kissed Matthew on the cheek and got out of bed. "I'm going to need a good cup of tea to deal with that lot. Maybe something a little stronger, but that can wait until this evening. Do you have office hours today?"

"Yeah, from noon until two. I doubt anyone will show up, though. I haven't had any visitors so far this semester. Should I get us lunch from the Thai place?" Matthew got out of bed as well, putting on his slippers.

"That'd be lovely." Arthur looked in the mirror briefly and sighed. "I look like a zombie."

Matthew smiled, wrapping his arms around Arthur's chest and kissing the back of his head. "A very handsome zombie, then."

Arthur shook his head, smiling as he took Matthew's hand and squeezed it gently. "I love you."

"Love you too. Now come on, we'd better get ready for work." Matthew opened the dresser, smiling to himself. Arthur still didn't know a thing about Matthew's early rising, and he had every intention of keeping it that way.

* * *

_Thank you for reading! Any and all comments and constructive criticism are most appreciated._


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